


Belts and Bath Towels

by BakerStreetBabe (Watson221b)



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: BDSM, Bondage, Dom/sub, Light BDSM, Light Bondage, Light Dom/sub, M/M, PWP, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-09
Updated: 2013-12-09
Packaged: 2018-01-04 05:00:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1076819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Watson221b/pseuds/BakerStreetBabe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock and John enjoy some light bondage.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Belts and Bath Towels

John looked into Sherlock’s eyes, and knew that this was what Sherlock wanted too. He leaned forward, and carefully their lips met. John pulled away after only a moment and looked back at Sherlock questioningly. Sherlock’s eyes had widened slightly, and he grabbed the back of John’s head, bringing their faces together again.

He tugged gently at John’s lower lip, and instantly John was half-hard. Their kisses were slow at first, cautiously enjoying the moment, not wanting to push the other too far too fast. And for the moment, that was perfectly fine with John Watson. He wanted to spend forever enjoying this give and take, their lips and tongue moving in perfect harmony. And Sherlock’s tongue was ruthless in its efforts. He seemed to be trying to catalogue every inch of John’s mouth. He ran his tongue over every surface with a precision that only Sherlock could bring to kissing.

Their snogging grew more and more intense as the newness and uncertainty wore off. All John could think was how he needed Sherlock’s mouth against his, pushing against his insistently. He needed all of Sherlock, and he needed it now. 

John’s fingers fumbled at Sherlock’s shirt, trying to undo buttons as fast as he could without breaking contact with Sherlock’s mouth. Sherlock realized what John was trying to accomplish and tore it off, paying no heed to the popping buttons that went flying across the room. No more were they careful new lovers, cautiously enjoying their first kiss. John needed more this instant, and it seemed so did Sherlock.

Sherlock grabbed at John’s hem and tugged the t-shirt over his head, casting it to the side. For a few moments they enjoyed kissing like that, arms wrapped around each other, their naked torsos pressed together. John’s fingers explored Sherlock’s carved muscles on his back, tracing them downwards till his fingers met Sherlock’s waistband. He dove his hands under and grabbed Sherlock’s firm arse, which elicited a startled squeak from Sherlock. John hadn’t known Sherlock was capable of squeaking, but he liked it. He grinned into their kiss and brought his hands back up to Sherlock’s shoulders, then around to his chest, enjoying the feel of Sherlock’s warm skin under his fingertips. 

He shoved Sherlock roughly onto the bed and paused a moment to shed his trousers. After barely a moment’s hesitation, his pants came off as well. He leapt onto the bed and crawled on all fours over to where Sherlock was sprawled, looking up at John eagerly. Sherlock was grinning widely, so naturally John had to straddle him on all fours and swoop down, wiping that grin off his face. Sherlock’s hands reached up and ran through John’s hair, pulling him tighter into the kiss. John nipped experimentally at Sherlock’s lower lip, sucking gently. Sherlock groaned into their kiss, and his deep voice sent vibrations all through John’s very aware body. If he hadn’t been fully erect before, he certainly was now. Sherlock’s head was straining upwards in his eagerness, gradually pushing himself into a sitting position as they kissed. John shoved Sherlock back onto the pillow. His head bounced once as he landed and Sherlock looked up at John in delighted surprise, his eyes blown wide with a mixture of lust and shock at John’s surprising dominance. 

“So you like me being rough with you, eh?” John whispered, tugging at Sherlock’s curls.

“God, yes,” Sherlock’s voice was husky with arousal. 

John grinned wickedly as an idea came to him. He sat back on Sherlock’s thighs and undid the man’s belt. Grabbing the belt, John lunged for Sherlock’s hands and pinned them against the bed rails. He used the belt to expertly secure Sherlock’s wrists, tugging once to make sure the bonds were secure. 

Sherlock looked so vulnerable and open in this position, his whole body exposed with no way to protect himself. His lips were red and swollen from kissing, his pupils wide with lust. His beautiful hair was a disheveled mess; John couldn’t resist the urge to tug his fingers through it briefly. He then brushed his fingers lightly against Sherlock’s taut stomach, and the man shivered and whined softly. 

John pounced back onto him and fiercely attacked Sherlock’s mouth once more. Their kissing was much more desperate, their mouths biting and crashing together. Sherlock was straining against his bonds, seeking more contact but unable to do anything about it with his hands tied. 

John broke away and started kissing his way down Sherlock’s neck along his bulging tendons, and down to the hollow of his throat. He scraped his teeth lightly against the skin, and upon hearing Sherlock’s excited whimpers, he bit down harder, sucking and nibbling and licking. At one point his teeth drew blood, but Sherlock simply threw his head back, exposing his neck even more for John. John bit and licked at that perfect dip at the base of his throat, enjoying the hint of salty blood mixed with the smooth taste of skin. 

Eventually he moved on, excited to find out what other sensitive areas Sherlock harbored. He licked his way along Sherlock’s collarbone, and planted kisses across his right shoulder. When he moved down to Sherlock’s nipple and stimulated it with his tongue, the man yelped and squirmed in his bonds. John licked swirls around it, enjoying Sherlock’s unreserved sounds mixed with moans of John’s name. He used his free hand to trace circles around the other nipple, mirroring his mouth. As he moved his fingers to pinch Sherlock’s nipple, he echoed on the other side with a strong bite. 

“John, please!’ Sherlock gasped hoarsely, his voice nearly a shout. John ignored him and continued to play with Sherlock’s sensitive nipples, alternating between licks and kisses and nibbles. Each move only made Sherlock moan louder, and strain against the belt’s tight hold. Sherlock’s reactions became so loud, John feared the neighbors would hear. Luckily, there was an easy solution that. 

“I’m going to gag you,” John murmured. Sherlock’s eyes lit up and he nodded his head emphatically. John noticed his obvious excitement at the prospect. “Wow, you are a kinky bastard aren’t you?” John grinned and somewhat reluctantly climbed off Sherlock to search for a suitable gag. He grabbed a bath towel from the loo and stuffed it between Sherlock’s teeth, knotting the ends behind his head. John was enjoying this power immensely. 

Normally Sherlock was such a dominant person; he dictated every aspect of their life together. John was a bit surprised to realize just how much it turned him on to dominate Sherlock in bed. To bring this powerful, unstoppable force to a whimpering wreck underneath him, until he begged for release. Tonight, it was Sherlock who was at John’s every mercy. 

John trailed his fingers down Sherlock’s torso, until they peeked under the waistband of Sherlock’s trousers, which had somehow not managed to come off yet. Sherlock bucked his hips, in an effort to signal that he wanted more, needed John’s hands around him. His muffled whimpers begged for John to get on with it already, put him out of his agony. Sherlock’s erection was tenting impressively under his trousers, and John was intoxicated at the sight of it. He lowered his pelvis and rubbed his naked erection against Sherlock’s clothed one, and it was heaven. John moaned blissfully. Soon though, he had to let up because he feared he would lose his control and come right then and there. 

He kept exploring Sherlock’s body, licking and biting at everywhere he could reach. He enjoyed taunting Sherlock like this, making his lust unbearable but never offering release. John wanted to keep exploring what sounds he could elicit out of Sherlock, but too soon John’s own arousal grew to be too much. His cock was straining against his stomach, precum beading at the tip and slowly dripping down the sides. 

John tugged down Sherlock’s trousers, tossing them off the bed. He gazed down at this perfect man that lay exposed underneath him, coming apart beneath his fingers. He ran his hands up Sherlock’s sides, and across his toned abdomen. Sherlock’s perfection overwhelmed him. The flawless pale skin, concealing a lean, well muscled build underneath. John couldn’t handle it anymore, he felt as if he would come any second. He knew he was not alone in this. Sherlock had proven surprisingly vocal and his erotic noises just kept getting louder and louder, even with the gag to muffle them. Now that there was only a single thin layer concealing him, John could clearly see just how erect Sherlock was, with precum leaking out the tip and creating a circle of wetness where it soaked through the cotton. John groaned lightly at the sight, and ripped off Sherlock’s pants.

He reached over to the bedside table and fumbled in the drawers for some lube and a condom. All the while he was intensely aware that as he leaned across Sherlock, their groins were extremely close, and that was Sherlock’s naked cock he could feel straining against his thigh, and that was Sherlock’s bare stomach that his own erection could feel. He ground his pelvis against Sherlock just once, because he knew almost anything could bring either one of them to orgasm at this point. 

He grabbed two unused pillows from the head of the bed and propped them under Sherlock’s hips, making sure the detective’s legs were spread wide. John sat back and let him watch eagerly as he slowly rolled the condom onto himself, concentrating hard not to tip over the edge. Next he ripped open the packet of lube and spread it across his hands, then rubbed his cock until it was well coated. Sherlock’s hips were bucking now, unable to control the lust that consumed him. John held eye contact with Sherlock as he prepared him, fitting first one, two, then three fingers up Sherlock’s arse. When the first finger slid in, Sherlock’s eyes widened, and when he followed with the second and third, Sherlock winced and shifted around uncomfortably. John moved his fingers up and down gently, trying to loosen Sherlock’s tight arse. Eventually the man’s features relaxed, and a quiet moan escaped his lips. 

Sherlock was hot and firm and so different from a woman; John had to pause for a moment to collect himself. He needed to last long enough to get inside Sherlock. It had been all he’d thought about for these past weeks, and he would not let himself fail the first chance he got. John’s fingers felt the small lump that was Sherlock’s prostate gland and he brushed against it. Sherlock’s eyes rolled back in his head and he whimpered loudly. John did it again and Sherlock’s hips bucked as if they had a mind of their own. 

Sherlock emitted muted protests through his gag, and John knew Sherlock was too close to orgasm; he needed to get on with it sooner rather than later. John withdrew his fingers slowly, satisfied that Sherlock was ready, and Sherlock stilled in anticipation of what was coming next. John spread Sherlock’s legs as wide as they could comfortably go and positioned himself, gripping Sherlock’s hips tightly. Cautiously, he pushed into Sherlock, and Sherlock groaned louder than he had yet so far. The delicious tightness squeezing around John was almost too much to bear. He wanted- no he needed- to drive into Sherlock, pound him again and again until he couldn’t feel anything else. But this was Sherlock’s first time in a long while, possibly even ever. John knew he shouldn’t push it this first time.

“Mmmph, mmph!” Sherlock thrust his hips against John, in an effort to get John more fully inside of him.

“Harder?” John purred it Sherlock’s ear, then bit down on his earlobe. Sherlock nodded emphatically, and John grinned wickedly at Sherlock’s desperate need for domination. John leaned over Sherlock and gripped his wrists tightly where they were secured with the belt, gazing down into Sherlock’s upturned face. The man’s cheeks were flushed bright red and his eyes were half closed, soft moans escaping from the towel stuffed in Sherlock’s mouth. John sped up and pounded harder, increasing his intensity until he was driving into Sherlock with full force. John slammed into Sherlock again and again, lost to everything but the sight of Sherlock’s blissful face and his own agonizing pleasure. It was a fire consuming everything, slowly devouring his awareness until he knew he could hold back his climax no more. He drove into Sherlock, dimly hearing the bedpost slapping against the wall in a rapid rhythm. Too soon, John felt himself tipping over the edge.

Whiteness exploded in John’s vision, an excruciating sensation so painfully wonderful he lost all control. He was dimly aware of shouting Sherlock’s name as wave after wave of oblivion crashed over him. He could feel Sherlock coming too; his semen spurted wildly against John’s chest, and he could hear Sherlock’s muffled shouts even through his own blinding orgasm. Eventually the waves subsided, and John returned to reality. He cautiously drew out of Sherlock, careful of Sherlock’s soreness. John slipped off the condom and expertly knotted it, tossing it away. He collapsed on the bed next to Sherlock and the two lay panting against each other, their skin hot to the touch from the exertion. After a few minutes John spoke. 

“Wow. That was, erm, that was...” John trailed off, at a loss for words. In all truthfulness, that had been the best sex of his life. Sherlock was much easier to please than any woman he’d been with, and his body was tough enough to take the beating John had given it. It was made even better by the fact that this was Sherlock: a tall, stubborn force of nature that did as he pleased with no thought for others, often leaving John trailing uselessly behind him. But in bed, John got to exact his revenge. He let out his military alpha nature and he showed that smug bastard who really had the power. John would never forget the extraordinary sight of Sherlock exposed, entirely at his mercy, begging to have John pound him harder. 

Sherlock’s muffled noises pierced through John’s reverie, and he looked over, realizing Sherlock was still gagged and cuffed. 

“Oh, whoops.” John sat up and undid the belt, noticing the red chafe marks around his lover’s wrists. John pulled the towel out of Sherlock’s mouth and used it to quickly wipe the semen off his front, then tossed it to the floor. He pecked Sherlock gently on the lips and then concentrated on massaging feeling back into Sherlock’s hands. He would have felt guilty, except that Sherlock’s expression was so content. He looked utterly well shagged and John was proud, knowing he was responsible. He glanced over Sherlock’s naked body as he continued to rub circles around the other man’s wrists. There was a deep purple hickey at the hollow of Sherlock’s throat, and tiny bruises and scrapes covering his skin, reminders of the biting and grabbing and sucking. John was oddly smug. He’d claimed his territory, and now there was proof Sherlock belonged to no one but John.

Yesterday, John never would have thought it possible that this wonderful man could ever return his love, could ever be capable of it; but here the two were, lying naked next to each other, with Sherlock’s cum splattered across John’s chest, and plentiful marks across Sherlock’s skin. 

John looked up at Sherlock’s eyes and noticed they were on him. 

“You should probably clean yourself more thoroughly,” Sherlock noted, nodding at the remnants of dried semen on John’s abdomen. 

“I’ll do it later,” John said dismissively. He lay back down next to Sherlock and snuggled against him. Drowsiness was already settling in, threatening to overcome John at any second. 

The two men drifted off, breathing in unison against each other. In the morning, they would probably have to talk about what had just happened, but for now they simply enjoyed the sensation of being wrapped up in each other’s warmth, the comfort of knowing their love was not one-sided. For this one night at least, everything was right with the world.


End file.
